Sunday is the laziest, also known as "Why Sunday is my FAVORITE."

 

Most Sundays, I walk the few blocks up to the farmer's market in my neighborhood. As someone who eats primarily vegetarian (please ignore the delicious Cuban sandwich I had for lunch yesterday), I can buy a week's worth of delicious things for not as much money as I would at our shiny new QFC and I can also ogle cute babies and dogs and smell pretty flowers and maybe talk to some people I don't know.

I'm feeling exceptionally run-down and exhausted lately due to me losing at the game of health roulette, so walking up there and wandering around was not sounding incredibly exciting. To be honest, I spent Friday night and most of Saturday in bed and I am *still* exhausted. This is where Face comes in. Face is short for Adamface, who is a rather handsome (if tragically hip) fellow that accosted me at a sushi restaurant one night a couple of months back. We became fast friends and we have a deal that says that he can come over any time he wants and hang out for as long as he wants, so long as he doesn't remove any clothing or try to stick his tongue in my mouth. In exchange, I will make him delicious dinner and breakfast and cookies and all manner of snacky things and we will watch movies and go swimming and be platonic boyfriend-girlfriend. It's silly and lovely and sort of droll at times and I am glad to have Face around. We tease each other an awful lot, but it's out of a sort of love that is like "Well, you're very pretty and funny and smart and maybe in another life I would let you put your mouth on mine, but if you try that in this one, I will hit you with a stick, so stop joking about that because NO."

SO, Face wanted to do brunch today and I wanted to stay in bed alllllllll day long, but I relented and told him to bring champagne and he had a deal. We'd planned on noonish, but that changed when this sunshine we're being subjected to woke me up at 7:45am. I texted Face and told him to get his hipster tail over here because we were having breakfast instead.

Like a true gentleman, he was here in 20 minutes in his automobile and informed me that since it was so early and the farmer's market was not open for another two hours, we were going elsewhere to procure eggs. I was thinking we'd be stopping at the grocery, but no. Face's friend from work has chickens. Chickens lay eggs. Face has an open invitation to come and get eggs any time. Given that chickens don't sleep in, Face's friend was awake, cheerful and already expecting us. He fed us coffee and sent us home with six perfectly lovely eggs from his very friendly chickens and said that I should come back with Face some time and play with those birds. Do chickens actually play? I hope so. I am envisioning teaching them to fetch and rewarding them with little bits of grain and making them my feathery minions.

Anyway, after such a lovely start to the morning, we vetoed mimosas and made deliciously strong coffee (I am told this is my specialty) to go with breakfast. After a friend left last night, I sliced some of the Italian round leftover from Friday night's dinner (gnocchi! DELICIOUS GNOCCHI!) and set the bread to soak in the fridge overnight with a few eggs and some heavy cream and vanilla and cinnamon. French toast was necessary. While we drank coffee and read the news from the Sunday paper, I made the french toast and chopped onions for scrambled eggs. Face sliced an apple and attempted to make whipped cream, which was partially successful, but mostly a delicious half-whipped failure. Queue more coffee and a bit of hand-wringing on his part.

"Birdie, you really need to get a mixer."

"Why? I have that sort-of-mixer thing you're using now."

"This is a glorified Snoopy sno-cone maker that happens to have an inadequate whipping paddle."

"And you arm is tired?"

"And my arm is tired. And this is gloopy. "

"It's heavy cream. It doesn't matter what the consistency is because it is a cardinal diet sin, thus making it delicious in all incarnations."

"Good point. Let's eat."

During The Eating Time, I was mercilessly judged for not having syrup in the house. Despite the fact that I never really use syrup (and that it is one more thing for me to clumsily somehow spill all over my cabinets), apparently this is also a food sin. Are people really so passionate about that stuff? It's so odd to me. I am not particularly fond of maple-y things, so it never occurred to me to purchase some. Instead, I use honey. I can get behind some honey, friends. So much more delicious than syrup (TRUTH) and it gives little tiny bees a purpose in life and it tastes like Heaven without being too much and it is far prettier than any of that syrup business could ever hope to be. Face wasn't terribly enthused until he tasted it on the french toast with some of his half-whipped cream. He was almost convinced. Then he accidentally dragged his eggs through a drizzle of it and proclaimed that extra sharp white cheddar and honey were meant to live together for all of eternity in delicious harmony. I have made him a believer. SCORE!

Face is now at home in a food coma, which he thanked me effusively for and I am contemplating laying out in this sunshine for a little bit with a book in order to cast out this paleness that is enveloping me. After that, I am going to call my sister Kristine, who gave birth to the most lovely little niece anyone could ever, EVER wish for.

Reese Ann Elliott was born on Thursday, weighing in at 10lbs 6.8oz. Clearly, big brother Luke is a-okay with her. Me? I can't wait to snuggle that little darling. So precious!

Baby steps

Where to begin, internet? Life has been crazy and topsy turvy and all sorts of backtracking lately. I haven't cooked at home for myself in a few months aside from tossing some pasta with some basil and a few tablespoons of cream and I haven't really had any desire to. That makes me so sad and I am trying to push past that and get back to the norm. 

It takes baby steps to get there, I think. 

This is a bagel. Ordinary, plain, boring, cheap, uninspired and ultimately pathetic. Add some tuna, celery, sea salt, and half of a pickle made my by dear friend Mardi and it is suddenly something perched smack in the middle of "something to put in your stomach so you don't starve to death" and "comfort food."

Eight days ago, my relationship ended on a busy downtown street just as rush hour was ending. With every single part of myself, I was certain that I would not make it to the crosswalk at the corner to go home and would instead die of heartbreak right there where I stood. It took me a good three minutes to walk that 150 feet. It took everything in me not to throw up on the bus on the way home. I then bought wine in an effort to drink myself further into the less-than-no-self-worth category and walked the two blocks to my apartment. I poured a glass of wine, sat down on my couch and didn't move from there until the next morning, spending all night staring straight ahead. I drank the rest of the wine for breakfast and then contemplated taking a shower before thinking better of it and drinking another bottle of wine while working on a painting. I went out with some friends that night and they got me righteously intoxicated and, thinking I was hungry, I ate some chicken strips. At this point, I hadn't eaten anything more than a few crackers here and there (nor managed more than an hour or two of sleep per night) in the five days previous. I came home and painted some more and sometime around 6am, I threw up. 

 

I figured it was because I had the gall to eat some convenience store chicken strips in a dirty Seattle taxicab while wearing a shirt that says VEGETARIAN across the bosom.  When I went to dinner the next night with my former roommate and one of my best ladies, I realized I'd assumed wrong. That shining moment of truth hit me right as I was throwing up chow mein (I am terribly sorry for that visual). Food has not been my friend. That night, a neighbor that I went to high school with sent me an email and told me to come over and tell him all the reasons why men are terrible. I trudged over in my pajamas and slippers and tear stains and plunked down on his couch and I couldn't think of one reason why men are horrible; it was just the opposite. I think he was a little taken aback at my proclamation of love for menfolk and then we looked at baseball cards until 1am. That was a baby step.

Breakup aside, I got some rather terrible news about someone dear this week. Because my employers are wonderful, kind, sweet people who cry when I cry, I was at home the first three days of this week, which is good. I received a call that someone I love very much stopped breathing and was able to go and say goodbye to him before he passed away. Not long after I left his bedside, he stopped breathing again, but it was final this time. All over again, I felt hollow and empty and angry and despondent, but I had dinner plans with a friend that I've not been able to get to know as well as I wanted. I dreaded it, but I went out anyway and when the waiter came around, I ordered food. Then I ate it. I didn't throw up at the sight of it and I managed to chew and swallow it. Granted, I didn't keep it down after I got home, but it was a start. 

Back to this bagel. After dinner with the former roommate, he accompanied me to the grocery store. I'd say he was being a pal, but I was wearing a dress and strappy little shoes and I think he probably felt like a heel leaving me to walk home in those monstrosities (PRETTY monstrosities!), so he talked as I shopped. Realizing that I had absolutely no food at home, I grabbed some bagels and some juice and some half and half for my coffee (the one thing that is always welcome in this tummy!). On top of that, I bought pasta and paper towels and treats for my dog and cat. On the way to the checkstand, I grabbed three cans of tuna. Ex roomie asked incredulously, "Wait...you're going to eat that?" "Yes I AM," I replied. "Okay. You just go ahead and call me when you want me to come and get those from you," he said. I rolled my eyes and rang up my own groceries and went home.

With both losses this past week hitting me in the same sore part of my heart, I left all of my groceries (except the half and half - coffee is IMPORTANT!) on the kitchen floor next to the dress and strappy shoes I took off as soon as I walked in the door. Existing and living are two very different planes, you see. 

Between then and now, there've been the loveliest nights of sleep ever. There've been cocktails. There've been friends rallying to my side to tell me they love me and ask if I need anything. There have been oddly serendipitous introductions and equally delightful run-ins with people I have not seen in a very long time. Each of these things I look at as a baby step. Every single tear I cried? The same.  I am hardly existing. No, no. I am thriving. A friend of mine named Lauren refers to herself as a phoenix, as she's come out on top of things that would likely shatter a lot of people permanently. Now I know how that feels. When have I smiled this brightly and taken every single second as an opportunity like I am? Not in a great number of years. 

This morning, I woke up and took a long bath and worked some more on a painting and then I walked into the kitchen. I picked my dress and shoes up off the floor and before I knew it, I'd chopped some celery and pickle and shredded some sad lettuce and I was preparing to sit down and eat these things inside of a bagel. Let it be known that the former roommate mocked my tuna-buying rampage because I hate tuna. The only time tuna sounds good to me is if I am neeeding something to shove me from "I HATE THE WORLD" into "Hello, sunshine!" It has always been this way, and I suppose there's some correlation between that and the homelife I had with my grandmother when I was little but the bottom line is that I really, really hate tuna. Always. Forever. 

Suddenly, nothing sounded more delicious. When I realized what I'd done while on autopilot there, I put the stupid bagel down and only then did I cry. I haven't cried in three days now, which five days ago seemed like an impossible goal, and now I was crying over a bagel (not a very chewy one, at that. hmph) in my kitchen and reaching for my camera so that I could take a picture of this stupid thing that will be forever burned into my memory as "the second I realized I was okay."

So there's your update. Girl gets dumped. Girl wants to die. Girl doesn't die, but someone else does. Girl makes a sandwich and cries with joy.

I'll have you know that as I typed this up, I ate every bit of that silly bagel and it shows no signs of leaving any time soon. Nothing has ever tasted better in my entire life and while I am repulsed that I put fish parts in my mouth, I think I will eat the same thing for dinner tonight. Two meals in one day! That 25lbs I lost over the last 10 days may find me again, but that's ok. I am smiling so enormously that I could cry all over again, but I won't because I am not simply existing any more and that feels so, so splendid.

On Cake

Ok. I know I said I was going to post the recipe and photos for my delicious romanesco cauliflower pasta, but I am a jerk and I forgot to do it, so for now, we're dealing with something much more important:

Cake.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, cake isn't as important as, say, bathing or taxes or laundry (which I should probably do today), but today cake is pretty important. 

For his really awesome anniversary present, I took Le Boyfriend to Bodies The Exhibition yesterday. It's certainly not for everyone, but I myself am a big fan of seeing how things work and I think that the chance to view people in a very stripped down (and really not terribly yucky) state is something not to miss out on, so off we went to peruse muscles and bones and organs and all manner of people parts. While standing in line for the touching part of the exhibit, Le Boyfriend told me that it was all me and that he'd not be touching ANYTHING. Imagine my surprise when, a moment later, I was standing there with a human liver in my hands, marveling at the size of the blood supply that it once harbored and I looked over to see Le Boyfriend cradling a human brain in his lovely hands. It was a bit surreal, as he was staunchly against even the tiniest bit of touching these things and then all of a sudden, he was saying, "Wow. WOW." I am quite proud of him. Such things are fascinating and humbling and I am really happy that he put himself out there like that. Again, it's certainly not everyone's cup of tea, but we were really in awe the whole time.

Anyway. DIGRESSIONS. I am so good at this. Have you noticed yet? It's a running theme with me. I begin talking about something like broken shoelaces and end up deeply entrenched in a conversation about the intricacies of social justice, without a discernible segue in sight. I pretend like it is a talent, when in reality it's a bit of a trainwreck. That being said: cake.

After parting ways with said lovely man last night, I headed home to cuddle my puppy, watch some really poorly made 1990's horror movies (Candyman, anyone?) and catch up on all things Internet. As I was watching that wretched movie (which I first saw in the theater when I was a freshman in high school with my friend Lauren), I caught up on my Livejournal friendslist (shut it. 75% of my AMAZING friends are with me because of my Feelings Journal). One of my favorite LJ communities is bakebakebake. There are gorgeous things posted there every day and that community really has made me want to become a more skilled baker and in a lot of senses, that has worked. Thanks, bakebakebakers! 

As I was skimming my friendslist, a bakebakebake post popped out at me. Pumpkin pie snickerdoodle bars? Are you serious?! After my brain registered a "HELL YES!", I informed Le Boyfriend that I was going to make these delicious-looking things RIGHT NOW. My only real issue is that I had no pumpkins of any kind and that the recipe looked like it would feed an army. I did, however, have a gorgeous acorn squash that I picked up at the farmer's market last week and I could certainly cut the recipe in half, so I set about it.

The end result? Decidedly not pumpkiny or in bar form, but I think I might even be happier with this:

After steaming my acorn squash to a mashably delicious consistency, I realized that I had more than the 3/4 cup that the halved recipe (the full version is after the link jump above for the post) called for. I didn't want to use a ton of butter, so I snagged he remainder of the nonfat sour cream out of the fridge left over from making Le Boyfriend's salad dressing and also decided to use my springform pan rather than a rectangular pan. 

Recipe after alterations:

Yield is 12-14 servings

Snickerdoodle layer

1.5 cups flour

1.5 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

3/4c packed brown sugar

1/2 stick butter, softened

1/2 cup nonfat sour cream

1 egg, beaten and at room temperature

1 tbsp vanilla 

Pumpkin/Squash layer

2/3 cup flour

1/3 cup raw sugar

1/2 stick butter, softened

3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp nutmeg

1 egg, beaten and at room temperature

1 cup steamed acorn squash, mashed to a silky texture

Additional

2 tbsp white sugar mixed with 2 tbsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350. Place a square of waxed paper or parchment paper on the tray of a 10" springform pan, close the ring around it and trim off the excess. Very lightly grease and flour the paper and the sides of the pan. 

In a large bowl, prepare the snickerdoodle layer by whisking together the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt. Add butter and mix in with a wooden spoon until the mixture breaks down into marble-sized bits, then stir in the vanilla, egg and sour cream. The batter will be thick, but stir for a moment until it becomes a bit fluffy, then spread into the springform evenly. Tap the pan on the counter a few times to release any major air bubbles and then top with half of the cinnamon-sugar mixture.

In the same bowl, whisk all of the ingredients for the pumpkin/squash layer together. This batter will be much easier to pour and will be a bit thinner. Pour on top of the snickerdoodle layer and sprinkle the remainder of the cinnamon sugar on top.

Bake on the middle rack of the oven at 350 for one hour. The cake will have risen and the sugar coating on top will have formed a sugar crust. Turn the oven down to 325 and place the cake on the lowest rack of the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until a toothpick/cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool for 45 minutes before unringing the cake and slicing it.

At first, I was a litlte bit skeptical. The acorn squash doesn't have the same bright color that the pumpkin does, but it still turned out lovely.

The snickerdoodle layer is so delicious and dense and the sour cream makes it just the tiniest bit tangy without adding (more) fat to it. The squash layer is also really moist and dense and I think the acorn squash worked really well as a pumpkin substitution and I will likely use it again in this recipe. I will be handing some off to a neighbor and will try this again with sugar pumpkin puree soon to see which I like better, but I have a feeling that this will remain the winner. I think you should make some of this and then you should put it in your mouth and then you should tell me what you think of it.

Coffee-ish cake out of squash. Broken shoelaces to social justice. Same story, all the time. At least this result is delicious, right? Right.

Catching up

I have been so busy and so neglectful of this little thing lately. I come home from work and I eat something like an apple or a hanfdul of Goldfish crackers for dinner and then I fall asleep. The past month has been so crazy that I haven't even kept up with things like doing laundry. Well done, Jessica!

Le Boyfriend and I celebrated 2 lovely years together at the beginning of October. He kicked things off by sending me flowers at work, which was the biggest surprise EVER.

We then went to dinner and came home to cuddle a puppy and get some delicious sleep, but we first took our official 2nd anniversary family photo because we're nerdy.

 

For dinner, we went to a pizza place a couple blocks away from my apartment, where we proceeded to ingest the largest slices of pizza ever made, EVER. Nick's arm is right next to that pizza, so there's no depth perception trickery going on to make it look bigger. The slices are 14" long and they are DELICIOUS. Really bad for you, but it was our anniversary, so what the hell, right? RIGHT.

The next morning, some gorgeous peridot earrings and a matching pendant (I said I liked peridot a year ago, in normal conversation. HOW DID HE REMEMBER?!) and an entire BOX of Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day cleaning supplies arrived via UPS and I pretty much cried under the weight of feeling so spoiled. I just made him a nerdy scrapbook, printed and framed one of his favorite photos of us and bought tickets for us to go see some plastinated dead bodies. Le Boyfriend clearly wins the anniversary gifter award.

Later that afternoon, I headed out to a gigantic lodge in the middle of nowhere to spend the weekend with a group of my friends. One of the group is moving to Scotland and this was her farewell gathering.

 

Our weekend away took place at Big House Lodge in Cle Elum, WA. 17 people, 4 dogs and an incredible amount of debauchery all fit quite nicely into that 5500 square foot house.

Meals were cooked, delicious cocktails were served and poker was played (I won. I KNOW, right?!) and it was absolutely lovely. The first night, one of the lovely ladies let me in on an awesome piece of news: she and her husband are expecting their first child. WOO! This group of friends is made up of some of the most intelligent, well-traveled, witty, generous people I have ever known and we had a blast. Did I mention that there was food there? Oh my.

I didn't cook an entire meal, but I did make some pretty amazing soft pretzels filled with bacon and caramelized onions.

The weekend also marked my first foray into eating hot wings. My friend Heather's husband Michael is something of a wing master.  I was hesitant to try them, but I am so glad I did. So spicy and delicious! I ate mine with a bit of gouda and some waffles that contained pearl sugar (you can buy it at IKEA). HEAVEN.

Given that the wings and waffles were merely an appetizer, I should have known that dinner would be incredible also, but I was not quite prepared for what was about to happen. I am notoriously anti-bones when it comes to meat. I dislike gristly things and connective tissue, so I tend to stay far away from meat that isn't boneless. Friends Tom & Katie made incredible mashed potatoes, green beans and ribs for dinner and while I was a little bit wary of the ribs, I ended up eating FOUR of them. Four ribs. Four pieces of meat with bones in them. Four pieces of meat that were so gloriously delicious, I was intensely sad that I was too full to eat just one more.

The morning we left, Jeremy and Renee made crepes for everyone. Making crepes for 4 people is work enough. Making crepes for 17 starving people with hangovers is for champions. They stood at the stove for FOREVER and I am so grateful. It was one of the most delicious breakfasts I recall ever having. I ate my crepes with a bit of ricotta, some lemon curd (which I staunchly maintain is the most delicious thing on earth), bananas, strawberries and blueberries and I became a firm believer in the power of crepes.

  

Penelope had so much fun playing with the other dogs. The dog with her in the photo above is a pitull named Marley, and she is the sweetest girl ever. She allowed Penelope to run her in circles andboss her around and she kept coming back for more. I am so glad they had a good time. It was adorable watching them run amok together.

The drive home from Cle Elum is about 90 minutes and winds through the mountains. Driving back from that area of the state is one of my favorite drives because it's so pretty, year round.

Poor Nelly was so tired on the way home that she crashed out on my lap. When she's in the car, she's sitting on my lap and looking out the window, without exception. She hates to miss anything and LOVES going for rides, so I knew she was beat when she zonked out.

Two days after getting back, it was my 32nd birthday. I walked into the office to find that my coworkers had decorated my desk.

In case I haven't mentioned it yet, I really do love working here.

That Friday, a bunch of my friends came out to hang with me to celebrate. I was again reminded that I am incredibly lucky to have such great pals. The only photo I have of that is one that my friend Russell took. l-r are Nicole, Emily, me and Summer. A dear friend gave me the BEST birthday present ever that night by telling me that I would soon be Aunt Jessica, as she and her husband are expecting their first baby. YAY!

The next day was my nephew Luke's first birthday party.

 In keeping with the theme of the month, my sister Kristine is expecting a younger sibling for Luke. Do you have any idea how exciting this is for me? THREE BABIES, coming right up! So excellent. It makes me happy enough that pretty much whenever I think about it, I cry a little bit. I am the mushiest girl alive, for certain.

Friday evening, Nick and I went and saw Where the Wild Things Are and I would like to demand that you go see it NOW. It was so gorgeous and the effects were so good that being able to see the sad expressions in the eyes and faces of the puppets pretty much drove us to tears. 

Yesterday my brother picked Nick and I up and we headed out to my aunt's house, where she and my uncle were holding a birthday party for myself, my cousin Nolan and my sister Elise. Nolan turned 14 and Elise turned 18.

Upon walking into her house, my aunt handed me a tiara and a feather boa and informed me that birthday girls needed to wear these things. Fine by me!

We spent the night catching up with my family and drinking delicious cocktails. Nick gave Elise a fair ration of teasing throughout the evening. It works out pretty well because my sisters think the world of Nick and he's never had any sisters, so getting 5 new sisters as part of the Jessica-package-deal can be pretty fun for him. He loves to torment them and they eat it up. Win/win. 

When my mom called me this week to tell me that she was baking my birthday cake and to ask what kind I wanted, I cried. No one has baked me a birthday cake since I was 17 or 18, so it was a pretty awesome thing to hear. Naturally, I got greedy with it and asked for a Funfetti cake with cherry frosting, and that is exactly what I got. Elise's cake was strawberry and I made a cake for Nolan that was devil's food with homemade dark chocolate buttercream, topped with more chocolate. Needless to say, cake is GOOD.

It was so lovely to spend so much good time with my family. I don't see them as often as I'd like to and they really are the most wonderful people. They are so kind and generous and brilliant and GOOD that it makes me a little bit teary talking about them. I am incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such people.

We came home and crashed out for the night and when we woke up, we headed out to breakfast and then to the farmer's market again. I picked up a bunch of leeks, some garlic, squashes, onions, broccoli raab and I even stumblled upon the vegetable I have been most interested in trying but haven't been able to find:

I made the most delicious dinner EVER with it and will post the recipe with photos tomorrow. For now, I have a delicious glass of wine to drink and a little black dog to snuggle down with for the night. I hope your October has been as lovely as mine has so far, Internet.

Autumn!

Autumn is steadily rolling into Seattle. The way it happens here is that we're fooled into thinking that it's still summer, usually into the beginning of October. The past couple of weeks have given us temperatures between 65 and 85 degrees and it is lovely.

This week, we were graced with weather ranging from temperate and lovely

to foggy and oddly warm

 

That is all well and good. We're used to that here. It's what we do. Yesterday, it was gorgeous, sunny and warm. Le Boyfriend and I woke up around 6:30 this morning (Saturday sacrilege!) and it was pouring down rain. YES!

While he had plans with the guys to bid farewell to their weekly nerdiness with remote-controlled rock crawler trucks, I had nothing to do but laundry. A lot of laundry. You see, I had no closets at my old place and now I have two closets and that means that I should hang things up and I really don't want to hang things up that have been sitting around in bags for the last 6 weeks, so laundry was a necessity.

Aside from doing laundry, I figured that eating dinner wouldn't be a bad idea. Before heading out for his nerdfest, Nick took me to see the new grocery store that opened two blocks from Terabithia. We'd gone to Metropolitan Market last night, as they seemed to be the only place that said "Why yes! We can help you with that!" when I called around in search of steel cut oats to make for breakfast. They were also very nice and the produce was gorgeous and I spent a very pretty penny there on basics, but I forgot to go back outside and grab one of the acorn squash I'd been eyeing. I was hoping QFC would come through, but especially with a new store, it's always kind of hard to tell if things will be available. Pulling into the parking garage, we were assailed by some wretched music being blared from tinny loudpseakers. Gross. STOP THAT, please! As if the denizens of my slightly hoity-toity neighborhood weren't confused enough by a parking garage with slippery wet floors, there was No Doubt screeching out at them. Passing a couple of stalls, we noticed The Most Ridiculous Thing Ever: valet parking. Valet parking at a grocery store. Cripes, man. Isn't that reaching just a BIT? I mean, maybe if you hasn't designed your parking garage like one of those little handheld mazes that you get in Cracker Jack boxes, people might not need someone else to park their car in a 3"x3" parking spot, yeah? YEAH. Jerks.

Anyway. Squash. I found some. I was considering some butternut noise, but then confirmed with Nick that the time I made The Most Amazing Squash In The World, we'd used acorn squash, so that was the choice. Throwing some boneless pork loin chops, onions, yams, potatoes, garlic and a couple of those gorgeous squash into the basket, we checked out and headed back to the car by way of the second creepiest thing after crustaceans: the glass elevators they have that sort of force you into an awkward staring contest with the person(s) in the other elevator. Ugh. No one NEEDS this stuff, QFC. Knock it off. It's weird.

After bidding Nickolas goodbye, I put the groceries away, started some laundry and then knocked some ideas around for what to do with those pork chops. I was considering roasting them and shredding them with some caramelized onion, then stuffing the squash with that, but decided instead to go outside to the community rosemary bush and snag some delicious herbs. I think I chose wisely.

The Most Delicious Dinner Ever - serves 4

4 boneless thin-cut pork loin chops

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1/4 onion, sliced

1/2 firm apple, chopped (Gala or Fuji work well)

1 large sprig rosemary (6-8"), leaves stripped from the stem

coarse sea salt

ground pepper

2 Red Garnet yams, peeled, cubed and boiled until soft

1 acorn squash, cut in half and roasted until mashable

2T unsalted butter

2 t unsalted butter

1.5 t flour

1 T fresh rosemary leaves, chopped

1/2 cup half & half

coarse salt

Beforehand: sprinkle the chops with sea salt and pepper, then toss with the onion, rosemary, apple and garlic and chill for a few hours in the fridge. Steam the squash and remove the pulp from the shell and set aside. Boil and mash the yams, adding a bit of milk if needed to ensure a smooth consistency.

Lay the chops in a single layer in a baking pan, making sure that some of the apple and onion lay below them. Cover with foil and bake for 25-30 minutes at 350 degrees. While the chops cook, heat the squash and mashed yams in separate pans on the stove, adding 1T butter to each as they heat.

In a small saucepan, melt 2t butter with chopped rosemary. Add flour and cook over low heat until slightly bubbly. Whish in half & half and cook on medium-low until the sauce begins to bubble a bit, then remove from heat.

Remove the chops from the oven and let rest for 5 minutes; they will continue cooking and will be moist without being undercooked. Spoon some of the squash and yam onto a plate and top with a piece of the pork, making sure to include some of the chopped apples, onion and garlic. Drizzle just a little bit of the rosemary cream sauce around and then eat it and enjoy it because it is so incredibly delicious.

To be honest, I'm torn on this dinner. I am a little bit sad because Nick should really be eating this with me, but I am also incredibly prepared to gloat to him about what he missed. I'm not a huge fan of pork, but there was no real fat.While the meat was indeed delicious, I don't think it would have been as good if paired with potatoes or spinach or something. Aside from being waaaaaaaaaaaay tasty, yams are full of good stuff like vitamin A, vitamin C, thiamine and niacin and the acorn squash offers up vitamins B1 and B6, vitamin C, calcium, magnesium and potassium. Hello, nutrients!

This was an amazingly delicious dinner. The taste made me think of walking thorugh crunchy leaves, drinking spiced cider and snuggling down with extra blankets at night.

 I have plenty of both the yams and the squash left over, so ideally I'd like to stuff some homemade ravioli with them later this week, if time permits. Some of the mashed yam may very well make its way onto the top of tomorrrow's steel cut oats. Or maybe it will be dessert. I don't know. It's no secret that I love love LOVE yams and sweet potatoes and that I also adore squash and I'd eat bowls of the stuff for every meal if I could get away with it. Unfortunately, Nick doesn't allow such things and that's probably just as well since I'm half convinced I'd turn orange the way I did when I was little and refused to eat anything but 5lbs of carrots every day. Yeah. My mother was, as you can imagine, incredibly pleased by this. Is it possible to overdose on delicious yams? Please tell me it isn't so.

Something delicious is in the works.

Muffins!

The past week has been slightly hectic. I spent a lot of time on the phone interviewing for jobs, and very little time feeding myself. Le Boyfriend actually took over a large share of food-related duties, ordering in a couple nights and feeding me delicious breakfasts when he was here, which resulted in me scavenging leftovers for most of my remaining meals. We won't talk about the fact that I ate nothing but carrots for two meals and bread for another. There may have also been a couple of means comprised entirely of coffee. These things are inconsequential, I think. Or maybe I just don't want to be scolded by said wonderful boyfriend. Either way.

Tomorrow I start working at a rather large social networking site that shall remain unnamed. We will refer to it as Hello, Internet. HI is a nice acronym for a site that lets you find and contact people you used to know, yes? I believe so. Anyway, for the first time in a while, I will be at the mercy of whatever is closest to my office in terms of sustenance. Because I am cheap, I am adamant that I will bring breakfast every morning, but I was having a very hard time getting excited about sitting over a bowl of oatmeal a the office.

After Nick left yesterday, I started thumbing through my copy of 1001 Muffins, in hopes that inspiration would strike. Given that I had a couple of containers of frozen blueberries, I wanted something that used those, but nothing really hit the sweet spot in terms of those recipes. I should also mention that I had about 3 tablespoons of sugar to my name and was not trying to trek up to the store at 9pm, so something with a bit less of the sweet stuff was preferable. I did have orange juice that would stand in as a sweetener and flavor agent, so I searched for recipes using that. After I'd made it through a good chunk of the section with muffin recipes, I stumbled across their Citrus Muffins recipe. It called for only a small amount of sugar and used orange and lime zest for flavoring. It looked promising, but I really dislike zested citrus rinds unless we're talking lemon. I sat and ran the numbers in my head and decided I'd modify it to make something I would actually eat. 

At the end of the process, I had some delicious orange-blueberry muffins that will be perfect to take with me this week for breakfast. They're not terribly sweet, but they're super moist (UGLIEST WORD EVER, fyi) and delicious and my adjustments to the original recipe worked out beautifully. I was worried that the proportions I doctored would give me a dozen-odd weird little blueberry-studded bricks, but I lucked out. I added a bit more flour and baking powder to compensate for the blueberries adding weight and liquid to the batter, then increased the liquid ingredients by 1/4 cup to make sure the batter wouldn't be a nasty, gummy paste.

Please excuse the wretched photo. My kitchen has minimal matural light at 8pm :)

Orange-blueberry muffins - yields 16

1 5/8 c flour

1 1/4 T baking powder

2 T granulated sugar 

1/4 t salt

1 large egg

1/2 c milk

1/2 c orange juice concentrate

1/3 c melted unsalted butter

1 cup fresh blueberries 

Preheat oven to 400. Sift together the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder. In a second bowl, whisk the orange juice, milk, egg and butter together, then combine with the dry ingredients. Fold blueberries in and spoon into muffin cups/papers to 2/3 full (I use an ice cream scoop because I am terribly clumsy). Bake approximately 14 minutes or until muffins are golden on top and spring back from touch.

As a bonus, I got to use the awesome silicone cupcake/muffin wrappers that Nick got me for Christmas last year. I'd never used them before, but I am absolutely smitten with them. I think I will make him some delicious cupcakes with them that he can keep all for himself.

Speaking of that boyfriend of mine, I am in the middle of making him the most delightfully ridiculous, corny, AWESOMELY NERDY gift ever. In just a few weeks, we will celebrate anniversary number two together. I feel that such a gift is warranted for any man willing to deal with my preposterous behavior for more than a short duration, nevermind two continuous years of such torture. He does seem to like it, which has maybe made me question his own sanity and taste once or twice for a brief, fleeting second but he thinks that all these quirks of mine are charming and I find him to be the most lovely person I have ever known, so I will give him that ridiculous gift and look forward to year number three, and all beyond that. 

Now I must go to bed. Tomorrow is day one at Hello, Internet and I am more than slightly nervous (read: TERRIFIED), but it will be nice to be around other people during the daytime hours, since the dog and cat are terrible conversationalists. Wish me luck. Goodnight <3